


to coddle, to worry

by meowrails



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack Treated Seriously, Double Penetration, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, Nail Polish, Whump, objectophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowrails/pseuds/meowrails
Summary: Stephen accidentally calls Mordo 'daddy' during sex, misunderstandings ensue. Also, the Cloak is eager to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i... i don't know. each fic i write for this ship gets weirdly kinkier than the last. but i just wanted some stephen fluff mixed with crack and smut, so here you go.
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are appreciated.

Even after months of being the Master of the New York Sanctum, Stephen managed to learn something new about his new home every day, the building held more rooms that was physically possible. 

For example, there was an entire room made to contain a cursed teddy bear that still gave Stephen chills every time he walked by a toy store, the room that was not a room but a entrance to a bar in the middle of a desert, and the closet in his room that held a micro universe he still had not yet explored. 

Today, Stephen and his partner learned that the echo in the Sanctum was tremendous, and that there was no way to hide the sounds the sanctum’s new Master was making. If anyone dared to enter at this moment, no matter the room they hid in, even if Mordo were to cover his mouth with his hand, it would be painfully obvious to know what they were up to. 

Neither of them could bring themselves to care, the sounds of skin slapping against skin resonated through the halls along with the ones that escaped from Stephen's abused, red lips. 

The paler man gasped, grasping the sheets and trying to push back into his partner's cock, but Mordo had an impossibly tight grip of his hips and a hand to his neck that held him against the mattress. He wasn't choking him, not yet, but simply holding him down. Stephen whined, muttering a 'faster, come on' that was ignored. Mordo continued his treacherous languid pace, chuckling when Stephen look back at him pleadingly. They were both well aware that no amount of begging would make him comply with Stephen's needs.

Sweat shined Stephen's back, which had his hands tied firmly against it. It was just purely for theatrics, and for Mordo’s affinity with pinning him down and having him restrained. There was no way Stephen could properly conjure up a spell in his state of mind, nor could his pleasure himself with his injured hands, which was actually what had lead him to point in the first place. 

After Mordo's return and forgiveness, the tension that filled the air around the Sanctum was unbearable. It only took one night of drinking for a tipsy Stephen to admit how hard it was to masturbate with his injury, which lead to a drunk and messy handjob, then an awkward morning and, eventually, messier, sober handjobs.

And now Stephen was being fucked into the mattress. What a wonderful turn of events this had lead out to be! What would his enemies think of him if they knew how much he enjoyed being on his knees?

Besides, what better way to forget the terrifying vastness of the cosmos than with  _ sex _ ?

Another gasp escaped his lips as Mordo pulled out, squeezing his neck before Stephen could make another sound, then pushing back in completely once he decided the sorcerer had enough. Stephen rutted his hips against the bedsheets.

Mordo let go, enjoying the sound of the man gasping for air, and stroked the red marks that his calloused hands left on pale flesh, pulling Stephen up until the man's back was against his chest. 

"Do you want to come?" The master asked, still thrusting deep into Stephen, Mordo's free hand was gripping his warm, dripping cock by the shaft. It twitched in response.

Stephen hissed, "Yes. Yes, oh  _ gods. _ " He rolled his hips.

Satisfied, Mordo pushed Stephen until his body was against the bed once more and  _ finally _ moved into him as roughly and desperately as he'd been begging this entire time. Stephen melted into a puddle of want, muttering incoherently with a low voice. "Mordo, please -- Oh, vishanti..."

Mordo grabbed his hips and raised him, giving him more access. Stephen was completely far gone now, all he wanted was for Mordo to pull his hair, to mark him, until the only thing he could yell out was his lover's name. 

As he moved, Mordo slipped a hand between his legs to pump his cock in with his thrusts. The touch was electrifying, it shook Stephen to the core. His hand grazed the tip of it, an embarrassingly loud sob escaped his lips. "Please, Mordo." His thighs quivered — he was so close. 

Mordo groaned then leaned down to whisper in his ear, "You remembered your manners this time," He said with a labored voice. "You are being so good for me."

Stephen arched his back. "Oh — Yes, daddy."

In Stephen's fantasies, the events go as follow: 

_ Mordo pulls out and turns Stephen to face him, spreading his legs and using the sorcerer's flexibility to his advantage, holding him by the back of his knees so he can slip his cock into him with ease. They both groan and Mordo starts fucking into him, growling at Stephen to call him 'daddy' again. Stephen does as told and Mordo wraps his arms around the man's back and moves. There is no calculated pace this time, it's rough and animalistic and desperate and it's everything Stephen needs. Words are tumbling out of his mouth, all of them nonsensical sentences about how much he needs Mordo to take him, to use him, to own him. He is impossibly deep in subspace. Mordo says nothing until he feels Stephen tense up, the American's words turning into whimpers, and he simply has to bite down into Stephen's shoulder to push him to the brink. Stephen's yell echos through the entire building, and Mordo is reveling in the fact that he can make the sorcerer beg so easily. _

But that's only a fantasy. 

In reality, Mordo was still firmly inside Stephen, only he was barely moving. In fact, he was completely still. Stephen looked over his shoulder to check what was wrong only to find Mordo looking back at him, completely horrified. 

"Shit," Stephen muttered, realizing that he had said that aloud. 

The Baron blinked once, twice, then cleared his throat, pulling out of Stephen while he was clearly still hard and wanton, but it didn't seem like Mordo was feeling the same way. 

"Stephen," he began carefully. Stephen had already rolled on his back and was looking at the ceiling, face completely red. "Is there something you wish to tell me? Do you have past family troubles we should discuss?"

"What? No!" Stephen scowled in disgust. "It's just a kink I thought you might like, that's all."

"Do I… remind your father, Stephen? Is that why we’re sleeping together."

He cannot believe he is actually having this conversation. Stephen grabbed the duvet and covered himself with it, his erection was somehow still interested in this mess. "Not in the  _ slightest _ , fuck — Listen, it's just a thing some people enjoy to call their partner when they're so... dominant and possessive."

He got on Mordo's lap, trying to get the mood back to where it was. The Baron shaked his head, "I do not understand. You called me your 'father' because I'm... possessive of you? I don't think those are qualities a father should have."

"I didn't call you _ 'father' _ , that would be weird! You're just being childish about this."

"You are in no position to be calling  _ me  _ childish!"

Stephen threw a pillow at him, proving his partner's point even further. Mordo instinctively blocks it with a shield and sighs.   

"The only position I want to be in is back on my knees." The American murmured in a low voice. Mordo seemed unaffected. 

He pushed Stephen back into the mattress, gently, and right as he thought they were going to continue, Mordo was already out of the bed putting on a change of clothes.

"Seriously?! Not even a quick blowjob?!" He yelled out as his partner walked out of the room.

"No longer in the mood. I have a lot to think about." 

"You know I can't jack off with my hands!" Mordo could practically hear Stephen's pout in his voice. But both of them knew that it was impossible to change Mordo's mind once a decision was made, even in these sort of situations. 

Unfortunately, this had not the first time Mordo had left him  _ mid-fuck.  _

"I know. I will see you later Stephen." He gave his partner a sly smile then left. What a cock tease.

The Sorcerer looked at his dick in frustration, which still refused to calm down and let it go. Maybe he could use the Eye Of Agamotto to make it go away, but he doubted Wong would be pleased that that he was using an Infinity Stone to get rid of his boners. 

Or if he somehow accidentally aged his penis far too much.

Stephen thought for a moment, pressing a finger to the tip and biting his lip. There was one other solution, one he hadn't tried in ages, at least not since before Mordo became part of the picture.

He held two fingers to his lips and whistled. He'll probably regret this tomorrow, but it wasn't  _ technically _ cheating when it's with a sentient piece of fabric, was it?

The Cloak appeared next to his bed in less than a few seconds, Stephen was sure he heard something crash. No matter, he had more important things to deal with. 

The Cloak fluttered, rubbing its collar against Stephen's cheek, clearly excited for the attention. 

"Hello, friend," Stephen began, his cheeks already flushed with both arousal and embarrassment. He _ promised _ himself he wouldn't do this again after the first time, then again after the sixth. He was pretty sure Mordo was well aware about his infrequent relationship with the Cloak, thus he allowed all thoughts of shame to leave his mind. He already lost whatever slither of it he had left after the events of today.

(Wong knew far  _ too _ much about their arrangement, as he had once walked in on Stephen moaning into the Cloak's collar and gripping the sheets as it touched him. They didn't look at each other in the eye for a week after that. He felt kinda sorry for putting the guy through that.)

"Look, I know I told you we wouldn't do this anymore --" The cloak's shoulders moved, as if it was laughing. Clearly, it never took that decision seriously. " -- but I got a little problem I need some help with. So, uh, go wild. Just don't tell Mordo."

The cloak ruffled at his lover's name. Was it jealousy? There was no way Stephen could know, but he wouldn't be surprised. They were both incredibly possessive over him, not that he complained.

It perched itself on Stephen's shoulders and pulled down the sheets, revealing the sorcerer's red, leaking erection that rested against his stomach. 

The Cloak caressed Stephen's cheeks with its collar as it toyed with the man's abused nipples, still sore from Mordo's incessant teasing, and used the other end of its tail to wrap around the shaft of Stephen's cock. He gasped, bucking his hips into the touch.

There was a hard slap against the side of his thigh, Stephen instinctively spread his legs. "D-Do that again," He hissed and held his legs open. "On my thighs -- fuck."

The Cloak gave him another quick slap to his inner thigh, making Stephen's eyes roll to the back of his head, his mouth whimpering. It had to hold him up as it caressed the welt it had left on pale skin. Stephen let out a shuddered breath.

It was pumping him now, clearly enjoying the sounds that he was making as it seemed to rustle and massage his shoulders with every whimper that escaped its human's lips. 

Noticing that Stephen didn't know what to do with his hands and was was simply grabbing on the the fabric of the relic, the Cloak ignored his nipples and thighs and grabbed both of his wrists. It held them tightly against his chest. Stephen laughed between scattered moans, this was so fucked up and he could barely bring himself to care. It seemed that weird, magical sex just came with the title of Master Sorcerer.

The Cloak squeezed lightly on his shaft then barely grazed over the skin. It was teasing him, Stephen bit back what would have been a very loud moan. "Come on, please?" He breathed out, voice breaking. "Don't you leave me like this too."

The Cloak moved his wrists until his own fingertips kept pressing his bottom lip.  _ Kinky asshole.  _ Stephen sighed and did as relic desired, sucking and licking his fingers, like he would do to a cock. The relic gained nothing from this except reveling in the fact how easily it could control the human. It returned to stroking Stephen's cock in quick, rushed motions. He groaned into his fingers. He was close, so deliciously close. 

"Oh gods, oh! --" He cried out, bucking his hips without any sense of rhythm. "Yeah, faster. Fuck -- That's it." He whined. Overcome with arousal, he rose his hands to pull at his hair, pain mixing with pleasure and overwhelming his senses. "Please, oh! Vishanti -- !"

He came with a shuddering whimper, his thighs quivering and his chest sweaty and flushed. Stephen panted and looked down. Semen covered his stomach, thankfully, he wouldn't have to clean it off the bed sheets, and the Relic could handle itself.

The Cloak stroked his cheeks and jaw, then it left his shoulders and rested on top of him. Stephen slumped on the bed. His chest was still heaving as he scratched the back of the Cloak's collar gently. The Cloak fluttered and pressed gentle butterfly touches to Stephen's lips and cheeks, which he had earlier learned were its equivalent of kisses. 

"Thank you, friend." He chuckled, "I think that solved my  _ problem _ . You did good." 

The Cloak continued to flutter happily in response. It was clearly very pleased with itself. 

"You can stay there if you want, you're warmer than a blanket." Stephen curled up underneath the relic and yawned. "I'm gonna rest for a while."

He felt the Cloak grow warmer as he fell into slumber, it was using its magic to help him rest, as it would often do when Stephen tossed and turned during the night because of nightmares. The sorcerer's eyes fluttered shut, and he managed to get an uneventful full night's sleep, his dreams filled with images of Mordo's steady, calloused hands and his relic's gentle touch.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It wasn't often that Stephen could indulge himself and spend an entire day having sex. Most days had the sorcerer busy protecting the sanctum, sometimes protecting New York City, and other times protecting reality as he knew it. 

The universe did not seem to care that he died a thousand time, it always seemed to be pushing for a thousand and one. 

He hissed at the stitches in his arm. At this point, he'd lost count at the new scars he'd gained over the year. It made his hands seem less ugly in comparison, but Stephen didn't like to dwell on his self-esteem for too long. Still, he sighed at the cracked nail polish, these cosmic enemies had no respect for all the hard effort his manicurist had gone through in trying to paint his shaking hands.

"Stop fidgeting." Mordo said, finishing up the stitches. They were a bit too tight, but the man had only basic first aid experience. He didn't plan on going to Christine for these things any time soon. 

"Sorry, just checking my nails,” Stephen stretched his fingers. “I'm thinking I'll paint them blue next." He answered flatly. Mordo rolled his eyes. 

"You were nearly killed today, look at the blood that escaped your arm! Yet you worry more about the state of your manicure," The Baron gritted his teeth. “Such superficial things...”

Stephen placed his blood stained sorcerer's outfit in the laundry, opting for a t-shirt and sweatpants instead. "I'm fine, Mordo. Besides, if it weren't for me getting stabbed you'd be dead by now. Or worse." 

One of the funnest things about learning about the Mystic Arts was realizing that there were far worse endings than death. 

His lover shook his head, "You have to be take care of yourself, Stephen. Allow yourself to be more selfish from time to time. Do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you saved me but you must value your own life as well. We've lost too many sorcerers already... No thanks to my actions. I worry."

Mordo rests his hand on Stephen’s thigh, still kneeling at the floor next to him. The sincerness and guilt in his voice was unbearable.

Stephen stayed transfixed for a moment before raising his hands to show Mordo the state of his nails, now perfectly fixed thanks to a bit of time magic. "I do take care of myself, see? Look how nice they look now."

Mordo stood up, "You are impossible sometimes. Why can't you listen to me and take this seriously?" He refused to show his face. 

"Now you sound like Christine," The American muttered. It did not go unheard.

That took the cake. With a loud huff, the sorcerer stomped away. "I am angry at you! I will be sleeping in another room," he yelled out. That was the good thing about dating Mordo, he always let him know exactly how he was feeling. Stephen always seemed to be the one to blame. 

First he’s too selfish and now he was too selfless. The Ancient One would be laughing at him now, giving him some sort of cryptic saying about balance and healing. But the room stayed quiet, it was clear Mordo was not coming back to their bedroom. 

The Cloak detached itself from his shoulders, it didn’t seem entirely pleased with him either. Stephen waved his hand dismissively, not interested in being coddled by the relic right now. It left without a second thought, possibly to annoy Mordo instead. 

Stephen had two options: He could go talk to his partner about his reckless behavior and admit that it stemmed from a subconscious fear that kept plaguing him after defeating Dormammu, or ignore all of his problems and meditate instead.   
He decided he would sit on the roof this time, he enjoyed meditating under the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fucking shit my dudes

As it turned out again and again, it wasn’t easy to meditate when he was exhausted. Stephen woke up to a firm shake to his shoulder, groaning at the pain in his back. 

“Stephen, you passed out on the roof.” He heard a worried voice say. The sorcerer covered his eyes, his skin was warmer than it should be from hours under the sun. 

He pushed the hand away but it did not budge. “Leave me alone, Wong.”

“He is at Kamar-Taj, it’s just us now.”

Stephen didn’t open his eyes but managed to stop fidgeting. Hearing a heavy sigh, he felt Mordo’s arms wrap around his back and underneath his knees. He didn’t protest, just allowed himself to be carried back into the Sanctum. It should feel humiliating, being carried like a hurt child, but Stephen’s headache was too strong for him to care. Usually, Mordo wouldn’t waste magic for such short distances, but he assumed Stephen wouldn’t want the population of the Village knowing that the intimidating sorcerer in 711 A enjoyed being held like this.

The portal lead to the bathroom. Stephen rose an eyebrow.

“When was the last time you bathed?” Mordo asked, probably trying to avoid telling him that he reeked.

“Uh - Two days ago. Maybe three.” 

Mordo helped him stand up and started to take off his clothes. “Disgusting...” He muttered, even if there was no actual disgust in his tone.

“You prepared a bath for me? Really?” Stephen scoffed and helped Mordo take off his shirt. 

“Just this once, don’t get used to it.” With Mordo’s help, he sunk into the tub with a sigh of relief. 

Stephen smirked, “are you going to wash me too?”

The sorcerer scoffed, “No, you are not that helpless.”

Stephen smiled fondly and grabbed the soap. “The water’s a bit cold, though.”

“You were in the sun all day, it will help cool you down. Don't worry, I will be waiting to  _ warm you up _ .”

A soft blush came to his cheeks, he hadn’t thought about it that way. In fact, he barely remembered that he felt as if he was burning up. He decided he very much enjoyed this side of Mordo, even if it took a stabbing and a slight argument to get him to act like this -- dominant and caring. Sort of... fatherly.

His cheeks turned from pink to a flushed red.

“Did you just make a _sex joke_?”

Mordo smirked and shut the door behind him, leaving Stephen alone to figure it out.

He took his time, extra careful not to hurt the scars on his arm or his chest. It took a simple spell to heat the water up to the perfect temperature. Mordo would probably get annoyed about him ignoring his advice, but if he was going to get fucked today, he was sure Mordo would forget quickly. 

Stephen sunk into the bath, dreamily contemplating what the other man had planned for the evening. 

Speaking of which, he wondered if the blue, glittering water the bath had been filled with was part of some sort of healing potion or if Mordo had actually gone out of his way to get him a bath bomb. 

He laughed at the thought and drained the water out, washing away any residue of soap and potion with a quick shower. Some small, barely noticeable flecks of glitter from the bath bomb seemed to stick to his skin here and there -- he didn’t mind, though. It made him feel delicate, which was not something he usually ever allowed himself to feel. 

Stephen tied his bathrobe around his waist and stepped out the door, please to see that Mordo had been waiting on the bed, completely entranced by a novel.

The american smiled to himself and crawled into the bed. He slipped a hand over his lover’s book and threw it to the side, his lips curling up even more at the man’s exasperated expression. 

“I know you are trying to be sexy, but there’s no need to take it out on the book,” Mordo held his hips and helped Stephen sit on his lap. He was dressed casually, with a black shirt and sweatpants that he borrowed from Stephen that hugged his thighs wonderfully. It was uncommon for him to wear anything other than the uniform he was given once he became a Master of the Mystic Arts, so Stephen made sure to savor the sight before they ended up naked. 

“I’m sure Walt Whitman won’t mind that I interrupted your reading to have some awesome and  _ very _ gay sex.” Stephen settled on Mordo’s lap and waggled his eyebrows. The other man did not seem affected in the slightest. He simply pulled at Stephen’s bathrobe until it fell from his shoulders. 

Mordo traced a finger over Stephen’s scars. “I do not scare easily but... please don’t do that again. I could have protected you.”

The american stilled, any excitement he was feeling seemed to leave his body but the blush would not escape his cheeks. Damn it, he didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t even want to talk at all! Stephen preferred to have a cock down his throat than to talk about his problems. 

“You are building walls inside you again. I had to find out about the nightmares you get from Dormmamu’s wrongdoing by my own accord...  you were never going to tell me, were you?”

Stephen hung his head in quiet guilt.

“I worry about you, Stephen.” Mordo continued, now running his hand up and down the man’s back. “I always worry about my students, or anyone I am in charge of.”

He rested his shaking hands on Mordo’s chest. “Since when are you in charge of me?”

“Since you allowed it.” 

Stephen had no idea how to answer that. 

Almost instantly, he felt something settle on his shoulders and kiss his cheeks. The Cloak had barged in when neither of them were looking. It seemed to always sense when Stephen was crying, even before Stephen himself noticed, and would always come flying to wipe his tears away.

He sighed, shooing away the relic’s incessant affection. “We’re having a moment here.” He hissed. 

The Cloak didn’t budge, Mordo seemed incredibly amused by this. 

“Leave it, Stephen. I told it to join us.” The relic ruffled its fabric and stroked its sorcerer’s back, possibly in order to calm him down. Tears no longer stained his cheeks, but Stephen was not used to this sort of tenderness. Sex with Mordo was rough, submissive, possessive. Sex with the cloak was desperate, messy and sometimes humiliating. But the pair seemed to be striving for the opposite of that just for him.

“So... the two of you work together now?” He turned to the relic, facing its collar, “Did you cheat on me?”

Mordo chuckled. “No, but we made an arrangement after I finished complaining about you to it. That Cloak is a very good listener, you could learn a thing or two from it.”

“Are you two going to make passive aggressive comments all night or are you just gonna fuck me?”

“ _ As I was saying _ ,” Mordo continued. Without warning, the Cloak pulled him off his lover’s body until he was lying with his back against the mattress, arms pinned to either side of him. 

Mordo was careful to grab him by his bicep, not wanting to hurt any of his recent scars. “We made a little arrangement and we decided that we both would be fine with sharing you for the night.”

Stephen blushed deeper and nodded quickly, eyes shifted from Mordo to the relic on his shoulders, eager to see what they planned for the evening. 

“Use your words, Strange.”

He licked his lips, “Yes. I’d like that.”

The Cloak was stroking the sides of his waist, holding him steady while Mordo started to nibble and kiss his jaw and ear. “Let us take care of you...”

That went straight to Stephen’s cock, it pushed every single button Stephen had. He tried to squirm beneath Mordo but the Cloak was intent in holding him steady. “Does this mean you’ll let me call you d-”

Mordo cut him off, “No -- I realized I am not comfortable with that particular... indulgence, but I think I have a middle ground. You may call me _ ‘Master’ _ , if you wish.”

Stephen was breathless, eyes widening as his lover towered over him. He licked his lips, heart racing, face entirely flushed now. “I think I’d really like that.”

The relic stroked his hands before letting them go. He instinctively went to kiss Mordo, but the man attacked his neck and jaw before he could do anything. 

Both his hips and shoulders were being held in place by the cloak, while Mordo started to spread his legs apart to scatter love bites all over his sensitive thighs. Stephen gave a soft little sigh, relaxed and exactly where he wanted to be: at Mordo’s mercy, restrained by his beloved relic, blissfully oblivious to the universe. 

Unsure on whether or not he was allowed to hold on to Mordo’s hair, Stephen held his hands up to his chest, one of them was stroking the Cloak’s collar. 

“Master...” The word slipped easily from his lips. It's not the first time he called Mordo by his title, but it was the first time he’d ever used it so intimately. 

He said it again, louder now that Mordo had spread his legs far and high enough to tease his hole with his tongue. Stephen let out a breathless moan. They had only just started and his knees were already trembling at the touch. He moved imperceptibly into Mordo’s tongue. It flicked and went  _ in and out, in and out, _ until Stephen was gasping for it. He wanted desperately to grab at the sheets and arch his back, but the Cloak still held him steady. Stephen ran his nails down his chest, sharply grazing his nipples. His mouth was slack open as he moaned.

The cloak reached down to stroke him at a slow and steady pace. It was overwhelming, but not nearly enough. Mordo licked a final stripe against his entrance and moved back, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Stephen’s eyes widened, he could only lick his lips in response. “Master, please-”

“ _ Please _ what, Strange?” The sorcerer rose and said against his ears. 

Stephen whined, “Just fuck me already.”

“I thought I already was.” His Master tsked, clearly disappointed. Stephen looked down, regretting his words instantly. Without warning, the cloak whipped his inner thigh and the side of his hips,  _ hard _ , making him yelp in surprise.

“ _ Strange _ -” Mordo warned. 

“Please, Master. Please fuck me, properly.” The final words came out broken and quiet, Mordo did not respond. Instead, he took one of Stephen’s hands in his mouth, sucked two of his fingers, and released them with an obscene  _ pop _ . 

“Go on, prepare yourself. I want to watch you.” 

Stephen’s couldn’t help but smirk as he pressed a finger to his entrance. It moved in slow circles. Mordo groaned and stroked his arm, encouraging him to continue. He did as told and pushed it in. 

His hands shook, cramping as they refused to allow him to get any good angles, but he managed to put on a show for his lover. 

He gasped at every stretch and threw his head back once he inserted the second finger. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the sight of Mordo’s hungry eyes that were staring back at him. 

Usually, he would expect Mordo to keep an unreadable face, hovering above him in the most dominant and intimidating way possible, until Stephen was squirming and begging for more, but it seemed that the sight of Stephen preparing himself just for him and the relic overtook his self control. The Baron was palming himself through his pants and hastily throwing his shirt to the side as he watched his lover. “You are impossible,” Mordo breathed out, this time in adoration instead of annoyance. 

Mordo pulled his hand away to finish the job himself properly, lube and all. The Cloak stroked Stephen’s cheeks lovingly and held his legs steady. Stephen pressed a soft kiss back then pressed his face into the collar, panting against the soft fabric. 

Stephen had four fingers in him now, Mordo was taking his time to please his lover and make sure that he wouldn’t get hurt any further. It was so often that they would fuck desperately, quickly, that they would both forget to prepare Stephen properly, and the sorcerer would end up sore and hissing as much as he moaned. 

“Master!” He whined once more and moved against Mordo’s fingers. 

Mordo slipped them out carefully, enjoying the whimper that escaped his lover’s lips. The Cloak released its weight on his shoulders and allowed him to move freely once more. Stephen arched his back and groaned, pressing more soft kisses to the Cloak’s collar. 

Mordo chuckled and tapped his hip, what he always did so Stephen would turn around so he could fuck him, but the man wouldn’t move. 

“Strange, what’s wrong?”

Stephen stared back at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips. He tugged at Mordo’s pants and pulled down until they were around his knees. “I... like it when you watch me.”

Mordo swallowed and nodded. The relic spread his cheeks apart while he hooked one of Stephen’s legs over his shoulder. He felt a hand reach down and shakily align his cock to his lover entrance and, before Mordo could even gasp, Stephen was kissing him, open mouthed and desperate. 

Mordo pushed in as they did so, resulting in Stephen groaning and panting against the side of his lips. This was always his favorite part, enjoying the slight burn and stretch until he felt completely full. A ‘ _ yesyesyesohgodsmaster’  _ was gasped against his lover’s ear. 

The relic whipped his thigh again, Stephen arched his back, delighted at the pain that bloomed on sensitive skin. His hips were moving at their own accord now, seeking any sort of friction he could find. 

“You are doing so well -- Such an obedient student.” Mordo moved his hips at a steady, torturing pace. Stephen’s answering moan was drawn out and shaky.

He wrapped his arms around Mordo’s neck and pulled him into a another quick kiss. “Thank you, Master.” It didn’t surprised him how easily he could call the other man by his title in this way, he would imagine these sorts of situations even when Mordo was his actual teacher, especially after a sweaty, long day of training where the sorcerer would always put him into a chokehold.

“I should have you like this more often if it’s the only way you’ll remember your manners.” 

Stephen didn’t have time to pout in response. Mordo’s cock went deep inside him, something dangerously close to a sob erupted from his lips.  _ Oh fuuuuck. _ He rolled his hips and clenched, his lover gasped at the tight heat surrounding him. 

While this had all been going on, Stephen barely noticed that the cloak was rubbing itself against his entrance, pushing in along with Mordo’s cock. It had coated a small part of its fabric with lube, and while nowhere near as thick as his lover, its flexibility allowed it to continuously tease Stephen’s prostate while Mordo fucked him into the mattress.

The relic pressed against  _ that _ spot, Stephen bucked widely with a startled, broken cry. He was sure he was going to lose his voice with his constant sounds. Only the Vishanti knew how he managed to not come ages ago. 

He hastily thought about how this was his first time getting double penetrated and how it was going  _ wonderfully _ .

Stephen’s legs were trembling again. His mind was hazy with the overstimulation. “Please, please -- I need to come. L-Let me come,  _ fuck _ .”

Mordo didn’t need to respond once he took Stephen’s cock in his hand and pumped it in time with his thrusts. The american’s hips bucked over and over, barely noticing that he was repeating the word ‘ _ master _ ’ over and over again like a prayer. Or a plea. 

“Why-” Mordo had to hold back a groan through gritted teeth, “should I?” 

Stephen pressed kisses to the side of Mordo’s lips and temple. His voice is shaking, the baritone richness of it was forgotten, leaving his begging breathless and high pitched. “Because I’ve been so good. I-I’ve been so good, Master, and I need to come,  _ please _ .”

Much to his master’s surprise, the sorcerer wrapped his legs around his waist and pushed him deeper in, until they were chest to chest, panting into each other’s mouths. 

Mordo’s calloused hands were petting him as he had to pull out for a moment, but Stephen didn’t want to be gentled, he wanted to be fucked.

The Cloak pulled out of him as well, and continued to pet and stroke his chest and face as Mordo grabbed him hips and lifted him just a bit. The Cloak thoughtfully held him up and suddenly he was full again from one hot, long thrust. Stephen bit his lip to hide a smile, “Yeah - like that.  _ Faster _ .”

Mordo didn’t expect him to stay submissive and pliant forever. He held his legs by the back of his knees and moved. There was no rhythm or pace to it, he was pounding Stephen with abandon, eager to watch him come. Stephen is whimpering at every move, open-mouth, into the Cloak’s collar. His body clenched, shining with sweat and flushed with arousal. “Oh fuck, put your back into it.”

His master actually growled, “Put  _ your _ back into it.” And reached down to tug at Stephen’s cock.

It only took three strokes to his shaft for Stephen to let out a cry that the entirety of Greenwich village probably heard. His hands grabbed at Mordo’s hair, perfectly manicured nails digging into his back, mind-numbing pleasure shuddering through his body. Mordo kept moving even while Stephen had slumped on the bed with come staining his chest, some dripped from his chin, every sound that escaped his sorcerer’s overstimulated body was nothing short of a mewl.

Stephen licked his lips and clenched with the last bit of strength he had in his body and looked up at Mordo, a sly grin in his face. “ _ Please, _ come inside me, Master.” He whispered, holding his own legs up just to add to the effect. “Mark me, make me  _ yours _ .”

That did the trick.

Mordo came inside his sorcerer with a groan and hid any other sound he could have made with a possessive, hot kiss. Unlike Stephen, Mordo was embarrassed of being loud in bed, and would often the re sults of his in the crook of the man’s neck or by crashing their lips together. He took a moment to catch his breath before pulling out with a hiss and falling limp on the bed next to Stephen. 

The Cloak wasted no time detaching himself from his human’s shoulders and cleaning the two up, making Stephen laugh at the soft touches and Mordo simply sigh and give it a quick thanks. It made sure to leave extra soft touches to its own beloved sorcerer, then left the room, presumably to clean itself up. 

Stephen was the first to speak up, “So, aren’t couples told that they shouldn’t resolve their problems  with sex?”

“We have never been a regular... pair.” Both of them wondered what exactly they were doing, but neither spoke up on the matter.

“Touché.” He rolled next to Mordo and rested his head on his shoulder, just as needy as he was when they started. “But seriously, I expected you to be a bit more serious about my ‘ _ emotional walls _ ’.”

The man tensed next to him, clearly not expecting that question. “When you... mentioned your fantasy the last time we did this I did some research.”

“Oh, this is gonna be good. Let me guess, Freud?”

Mordo rolled his eyes, “Even if I didn’t want you to see me as a sort of parental figure, I still believed your need for a dominant, possessive figure stemmed from your traumatic experience with Dormmamu.”

It was a long time since Stephen heard that name. He fell quiet, “You thought this was going to be cathartic for me?”

“I suppose...”

Stephen cut him off and kissed him, once in the lips and once in his forehead. But he was laughing, a deep, wonderful chuckle that he hadn’t allowed himself to do in what felt like weeks. “My dear, I had that little kink since college. I only did it once with some guy I fooled around with, then with this girl but I guess that was more of a ‘mommy’ deal -”

“Alright, I get the point.” Mordo had closed his eyes while Stephen spoke, clearly embarrassed at his previous hypothesis. 

Stephen was not going to pass up the opportunity to tease the other sorcerer. “You would be the worst psychologist ever. Patient and Doctor relationships are pretty frowned upon, Karl.”

“So are relationships between teachers and their students.”

The american gave him a tired yet playful smirk, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to spend the rest of the evening in their bed. 

They’re both well aware that it won’t fix any sort of problem, that the universe will could to hunt them down in the morning, but at least Stephen is comfortable enough with the fact that he never gets nightmares when he’s sleeping with a loved one. It was the only time his mind wasn’t racing, worrying about the millions of things that could bring harm to the dimension -- instead, he could allow himself to indulge in how handsome the other man looked with stubble. 

“We have a long day ahead of us, you should rest.” Mordo drapped the duvet over them and wrapped his hands around Stephen’s waist, pulling them close enough to breath each other’s air. They were still naked, of course, but they were both too old and spent in order to go for another round. 

Stephen hummed and closed his eyes, “All I need for the day to be bearable is to have you beside me.” 

They could not help but laugh at the ridiculousness at the words, and their tenderness, and fell into quiet slumber. 

 


End file.
